


Partnership

by writesometimes



Category: Mafia (Video Games)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Drinking, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, sharing is caring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 02:55:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9363392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writesometimes/pseuds/writesometimes
Summary: Everything got very crazy very fast when Lincoln returned to New Bordeaux. He'd been so busy leaving a trail of bodies through the city he hadn't even had time to check in with Donovan lately. However, a heavy downpour and heat from the cops pushed Lincoln in the CIA agent's direction one night.





	

To absolutely no one's surprise, the platoon trying to make it through the jungle quickly ran out of supplies. They were so hard up, they'd all been forced to pair up and share tents at night. Donovan had immediately sought Lincoln out and offered to bunk up. Lincoln was relieved. 

The jungle at night was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. There was no way to know if the rustling grass was some animal or the enemy coming to kill them all. It made sleep a pretty elusive thing. So, although he'd never admit it, Lincoln was glad he'd now have a tent-mate.

That night, Lincoln laid on the hard ground, his thin bedroll providing very little in the way of comfort. Donovan laid no more than a foot away, flat on his back, smoking a cigarette he'd traded some candy for. The two were silent, trying to force themselves to fall asleep. 

The sound of rustling grass somewhere out in the darkness made Lincoln jump. "Relax, princess," Donovan said patting the gun by his side, "I won't let anything get us in the night." 

"What the fuck are we _doin'_ out here?" Lincoln whispered in exasperation. "Tryin' to sleep," Donovan replied dryly. 

Lincoln chuckled. "I mean what are we doin' here, in Vietnam. In this damn jungle." Donovan hummed thoughtfully. "I know what you meant. We're defending our country. Being heroes and shit," he said as smoke rolled from his lips. 

"You think if people back home knew what was going on over here they'd still see us as heroes?" Lincoln asked cautiously. "Fuck 'em, they're not here. We are. Surviving this place makes you a hero," Donovan quipped. Lincoln rolled over onto his side and faced Donovan. The air in the tent was growing think with cigarette smoke and tension, and Lincoln knew it was time for a change of subject.

"What's the first thing you're gonna do when you make it home?" Lincoln asked, a small smile on his lips. 

Donovan shifted on his bedroll and beamed at Lincoln. "I'm gonna buy an entire carton of smokes and eat a big cheeseburger," he said confidently. Lincoln laughed and rubbed at his eyes sleepily. 

Donovan cocked his head, gazing up at his tent-mate as best as he could through the darkness. "What about you?" he asked almost dreamily. "I'm gonna pick up my car and head to my, uh, family's bar and get loaded," Lincoln replied wistfully. 

"Louisiana must be one hell of a place to do some drinking in," Donovan mused. "You have _no idea_ ," Lincoln laughed in earnest. 

"Maybe when we get out of this hell hole I'll have to drop in. Help you tear it up out in the big easy," Donovan grinned. "Yeah, man, I'd be glad to show you a good time down south," Lincoln grinned back nonchalantly. 

"Oh, Mr. Clay, you sweet talker!" Donovan cried teasingly. "Shut the fuck up, Donovan," Lincoln laughed loudly, pushing at Donovan's shoulder lightly.

The blonde began laughing just as loud, and soon a chorus of 'shhh's' began hissing through their camp. "We better get some sleep," Lincoln said seriously. Donovan grunted in agreement and rolled onto his back once more. 

The pair awoke the next morning with their feet tangled up together, hair sticking up at wild angles, and soft grins on their faces.

* * *

 

Everything got very crazy very fast when Lincoln returned to New Bordeaux. He'd been so busy leaving a trail of bodies through the city he hadn't even had time to check in with Donovan lately. However, a heavy downpour and heat from the cops pushed Lincoln in the CIA agent's direction one night. He trudged up the stairs, seeking out the corner room Donovan had holed up in. 

"I can't beat anymore information out of anyone tonight," Lincoln announced as he walked through the front door of the motel room. He padded heavily across the shag carpet to the back room where he knew he'd find Donovan. The man looked up and wordlessly tossed a pack of cigarettes at Lincoln. It hit him directly in the chest, jingling the dog tags that hung around his neck. 

Lincoln pulled a cigarette from the pack and continued wandering into the back room, patting himself down in search of a lighter. "You got a light, or you gonna leave me hanging?" he asked lightly. 

Donovan meandered over and pulled a zippo from his coat pocket. "Come on baby light my fire," he crooned awfully as he flicked the flint on the zippo and lit Lincoln's cigarette. 

Lincoln took a long drag and looked down at Donovan bemusedly. "Are you drunk?" 

Donovan almost giggled. "Thought about it," he nodded towards the bottle of bourbon on the desk, "Attempted it. Gave up halfway through," he said, shrugging casually. Lincoln looked over at the bottle on the desk. It appeared mostly full. He walked over and grabbed the bourbon, bringing it to his lips. "Might as well get halfway there with you," he laughed before taking a generous swig. 

Donovan smirked. "I always thought we'd do some drinking down here together, just not like this. In some shitty motel," he mused wryly. "I'll take you out to celebrate for real once this is all over. Promise. You can get all dolled up and everything," Lincoln chuckled before taking another swig of the bourbon. 

"All dolled up for a night out on the town with Lincoln Clay! Just have me home by ten o'clock or my pops will flip," Donovan smirked slyly. 

Lincoln shook his head ruefully and set the bourbon back on the cluttered desk. "You eat anything tonight?" he inquired. Donovan eyed him carefully. "Told you, I had attempted to get drunk. Why the fuck would I eat anything?" 

Lincoln rolled his eyes. "You're gonna die up here in this shitty motel, you know that right?" he asked, trying to suppress a laugh. Donovan grinned wildly and pointed at Lincoln. "That's where you're wrong! I do my calisthenics! If Viet-goddamn-nam couldn't get me, the Blue Gulf Motel sure as shit won't."

Lincoln threw his hands up in mock surrender. "Whatever you say, man. There _is_ a pizza delivery place in town though. I don't know about you, but I could go for a slice or two right now," he suggested.

Donovan cocked his head to the side and squinted his eyes at the larger man. "You're paying," he said confidently, making his way for the large phone book on the desk. 

They scanned over various dossiers for about half an hour until there was a knock at the door. Lincoln paid the delivery guy while Donovan greedily took the pizza box and set it in the middle of the mattress. "I don't have a table, or any plates, but I don't wanna eat on this filthy fucking floor. Just be careful I gotta sleep in this bed," the blonde explained quickly as he flung the box open. Lincoln sat down next to Donovan, back up against the headboard, and snatched a slice of pizza from the box.

"Take your boots off, you heathen. I told you I have to sleep here," Donovan chided, pushing at Lincoln's knee. "All right, all right, quit your bitchin'," Lincoln mumbled around a mouthful of pizza as he leaned forward and removed his boots. They landed on the floor with a loud thud. 

The two sat in silence for a bit after that, devouring their pizza before Donovan snatched the bottle of bourbon that had somehow made its way to the nightstand. "Have we ever shared a pizza before?" he asked curiously, taking a swig of the amber liquor. "Don't think so," Lincoln shook his head and nudged Donovan in the ribs, silently asking for the bourbon.

Donovan handed it over quickly and Lincoln took a generous drink before hiding it over on the nightstand on his side of the bed. He was too physically exhausted to deal with a totally drunk John Donovan tonight. 

Luckily, the blonde didn't seem to notice the bottle never made it back his way. He just pulled another slice of pizza from the box. Lincoln looked over at the man beside him. He'd discarded his sport coat after they'd called for the pizza, and his shoes were never on to begin with. He looked pretty comfortable sitting there on that shitty motel bed with his cheap pizza. 

Lincoln chuckled to himself. "You know, I don't think I ever actually thanked you for coming all the way down here to help me out. So -- you know -- thanks," he said quietly, reaching for more pizza.

"Not necessary, Clay. Told you in 'Nam that I'd always have your back. I meant it," Donovan grinned up at Lincoln, bumping their shoulders together. Lincoln smiled down at the blonde, who reeked of bourbon and pepperoni, but couldn't bring himself to move away. Besides, he probably didn't smell much better anyway. 

Donovan didn't seem to mind either, though, because he hadn't moved an inch. Lincoln stifled a sudden yawn with the hand not pinned between himself and Donovan. "You falling asleep on me?" Donovan chuckled.

Lincoln hummed thoughtfully and leaned over onto Donovan more. "Tryin' not to," he mumbled. Donovan snorted and rested his head on Lincoln's shoulder. "Wanna crash here for the night? It's not much, but it's not rain soaked. And it's probably better than wherever the fuck you normally go for the night."

Lincoln drew in a deep breath and moved ever so slightly so he could look Donovan in the eye. "Weren't you just making a big deal about how you had to sleep in this shitty bed?" he smirked. Donovan just shrugged in response. "You're too good to me," Lincoln murmured. 

"I know. Believe me, I know," Donovan chuckled. 

Lincoln settled back in closer to Donovan once more, leaning down and momentarily burying his face in his blonde hair. "Definitely owe you one," he mumbled before pressing a soft kiss to the top of Donovan's head. The blonde smiled to himself and carefully took Lincoln's hand in his own.

"Sleep tight, princess," he whispered as he shifted the two of them into more comfortable positions. 

By the time the sun finally came through the dingy curtains, Lincoln had wrapped his arms around Donovan's middle, their feet laid tangled together.

**Author's Note:**

> I got bored over the weekend and this happened...
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://imwritesometimes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
